


sixty-seven percent

by HolyGuacomole



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-War, let them eat cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyGuacomole/pseuds/HolyGuacomole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few seconds pass where Cassie worries Marco has hung up, but his voice comes through softer, lacking it’s sarcastic bite. “… I don’t remember. I don’t- it’s-.”</p>
<p>“Been too long.” Cassie whispers back, thin and almost cracked. Almost.</p>
<p>She can hear Marco stifling a dry sob against his shoulder. He’d never broke this quickly. This fast.</p>
<p>She’s an asshole for bringing this to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sixty-seven percent

**Author's Note:**

> This story can also be found on my [blog](http://allisonsghost.tumblr.com/post/131000502433/cassie-and-jake-70), but that version is unedited and written in past tense. Feel free to drop me a prompt anytime!

Cassie stares down at her phone. It hasn’t been charged since she left her house this morning with it, her briefcase, and a kiss to her husband. Her meeting with the South Korean diplomat went wonderfully, with full support for Hork Bajir, but hesitant compliance to work with the Y.P.M.

Her phone’s at 67%. It’ll be fine.

***

“What’s Jake’s favorite flavor for cake?”

“Cassie?”

“You sound tired,” Cassie lifts her wrist up to see the small hand past 12. “It’s the afternoon, why are you tired?”

A high-pitched voice sounded over the phone in complaint of the noise. Ah. She takes the cell away from her face in mild disgust.

“I’m tired because it’s the afternoon, you workaholic.” Rustling follows his voice and the stranger becomes fainter, so Cassie assumes he was putting on some pants and leaving the room for privacy. “Now, what’re you doing?”

“Looking for cake?” Cassie bites her bottom lip while scanning the bakery at the local Vons.

“Mmm, are ya sure about that Miss Green?”

“What’s his favorite flavor?”

“Cake?”

“Yes.”

“For Jake?”

Cassie breathes in slow, and deeply, and says patiently, “Yes.”

A few seconds pass where Cassie worries Marco has hung up, but his voice comes through softer, lacking it’s sarcastic bite. “… I don’t remember. I don’t- it’s-.”

“Been too long.” Cassie whispers back, thin and almost cracked. Almost.

She can hear Marco stifling a dry sob against his shoulder. He’d never broke this quickly. This fast.

She’s an asshole for bringing this to him.

Right now.

Today.

Cassie licks her lips and makes her voice light as air, “I was thinking about chocolate and peanut butter. That’s always a good choice.”

Marco coughs a bit and replies back, “Hell, send me some if he doesn’t eat any. Chocolate an’ peanut butter sounds tempting enough to face the wrath of my trainer.”

Cassie hears some mirth, and almost starts to say something else. Say something with more substance than, ‘All cake is good cake,’ but a low gasp catches her attention. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees a middle-aged woman holding onto her son’s hand, looking positively giddy.

“Y’know, I was thinking maybe we could, uhm-”

“I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Cassie wants to slap herself.

Marco’s teeth make an audible clack, and she can even hear the wall being thrown back up, “Alrighty then. It was nice talking to you, Madame Secretary.”

Cassie flinches at the disconnect and stares hard at the screen.

44%.

***

_And it sure ‘nuff got cold after the rain fell,_  
_not from the sky but from my eye,_  
_not from the sky, from my eye._

Cassie drums her fingers along the wheel of her old pick-up truck. Her go to car for being inconspicuous.

She glances at the still dark house, as if glancing away every few heartbeats will magically make light appear.

Cassie had been sitting there in her idling car for near half an hour, and that definitely wasn’t good for her, half empty on fossil fuel.

But… she has to wait.

Or, she can-

BZZZZT! BZZZZT! BZZZZT!

Cassie flinches so hard that her head smacks into the dashboard!

She moans quietly to herself, and picks up the cell phone; the message was from Ronnie. **Dinner’s getting cold. Is the meeting running late?**

A frown spreads over her face, guilt colouring her eyes.

But she just has to-

8:45 PM, 19%.

***

The ground is cold- of course it is, being chilled from the night air and freshly watered. Cassie feels the moisture seep through her pencil skirt, and notices the mud drying on her work heels. The ones that the South Korean diplomat complimented.

She chuckles a little breathlessly, tucking her head against her shoulder, “Looks like I gotta buy some new shoes, Rach.”

The wind whistles through the graveyard in answer, a stray leaf almost brushing over the uncovered cake, but Cassie waves it away before it gets too close.

“I don’t think Jake would’ve recognized me in them anyway.”

<Probably not.> A long forgotten voice fills her mind, and it was so surprising a tear escapes her right eye. <Then again, his head’s so far up his own ass, he probably wouldn’t even notice if you stood right smack in front of him.>

Cassie sucks air through her teeth, but offers nothing in Jake’s defense. Instead, she pulls a plastic serving knife from her purse and begins to cut into the dessert. Without a word, the all too familiar creak and crunch of bone and muscle burst through the air, but she doesn’t flinch.

She missed that sound.

Was that horrible?

“I-,” Tobias growls out through his throat. It's awkward and clumsy. No doubt twisting his tongue around human teeth was like riding a bike, but no less difficult to be comfortable. “Mind… if I have some?”

“How long has it been, this time?” she cuts a small piece, acknowledging how the sweetness might be a shock to his disused taste buds.

He sticks a finger straight into the spongy bread and drags it through the icing, “3 months.”

Tobias shoves his index finger into his mouth, and gasps aloud, “ _Fuck_ , I missed chocolate!”

His outburst surprises a loud laugh out of Cassie, disturbing a nearby murder of crows, but the hysteria is quick to leave her, and the night grows silent for a while after that, both eating the cheap grocery store cake, absorbed in their own thoughts. Cassie, overcome suddenly with sadness, as she inspects Tobias’ thirteen year old face.

What a goddamn tragedy.

“He was here earlier.” Tobias licks the serving knife distractedly, “You just missed him. Same old silent Jake, staring off into space.”

“I wanted to give him this cake.”

“Oh well.”

Cassie looks to Rachel’s tombstone, detached, “Oh well.”

She digs into her purse, sticky fingers smearing crumbs over the canvas fabric, when her phone buzzes.

Ronnie left another message: **I’ll be at the cemetery in twenty minutes.**

0%

The phone went dead.


End file.
